


Better Than Before

by Savanna (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, i wrote it weird im sorry, not edited much, why must i make comparisons with everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 12:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17043836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Savanna
Summary: Peter loses his appetite because everything tastes like ash. AU where infinity war happened but in a different universe/timeline."Ashes of forest fires make the soil even better."





	Better Than Before

“You’re not going to eat?” Ned asks, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “We’ve got gym class next, dude.”

Peter glances at his friend, then stares down at his styrofoam tray of untouched pizza. “I’m just not hungry today.” He takes his fork and stabs a piece of pineapple, but he can’t seem to force his hand to bring it to his lips. He stabs the other pieces, making a sticky mush.

Ned watches him, eyes him. Peter didn’t ever have trouble in gym, thanks to the spider bite, but he had always eaten a ton thanks to it. Peter even got on the lunch lady’s good side so he could get seconds. Today, though, Peter doesn’t take one bite, and the sudden change concerns Ned. Maybe Peter had gotten sick over the weekend? Could Peter even get sick?

“I’m fine,” Peter says when he sees the concern on Ned’s face. As Ned goes to say something, he doesn’t notice, and gets up to throw the full tray away.

 

As Peter pulls the suit on and swings up onto a rooftop, he doesn’t feel as energized. He knows he should eat, but the sight of food, the _thought_ of it, is just so unappealing. So rather than use his money to get a sandwich or something, Peter holds onto it, and ends up using it later that evening to help a single mother pay for her kids’ ice creams.

When Peter’s home and in sweatpants, his suit tucked away even though May already knows, he works on homework and texts Ned. Ned seems to have forgotten about him skipping lunch, which is good because Peter didn’t want to have to argue about it again. They talk about Star Wars, and Peter promises to drop by and work on the re-building of the Death Star that weekend.

Once May is home and ready to make dinner, Peter has an easy excuse that he already ate. With May coming home so late, the day ends like that and Peter goes to sleep on an empty stomach.

He has a weird dream that night, of him wandering a dusty place that was supposed to be a planet. There’s Steve Rogers there, and Tony Stark, and Peter’s walking towards them, but he suddenly falls. They’re yelling at him, saying something but he can’t hear them. When he looks down at himself in his dream, he sees ash or dust rise from his body, until he can only stare up at the dusty orange sky and wait for his eyes to go too.

 

Ned doesn’t let Peter go so easily the next day. Peter has to take a bite of mashed potatoes to get him to shut up about it, and Ned seems relieved after that. As Peter chews slowly, though, he wants to spit it out. It tastes like dust, even feels gritty and dirty in his mouth. He can’t spit it into his napkin when Ned isn’t looking, not when MJ is eyeing him from across the table. Peter sighs and forces himself to swallow it down, chasing it with chalky chocolate milk.

Patrolling goes the same, Peter letting Karen lead him to issues like theft and potential traffic jams. He feels weaker, but Peter is still quite strong. He’s still able to lift a car when necessary, so he considers himself fine.

“Peter,” Karen says later on when it’s nearing evening. “You should get something to eat.” Her voice is gentle, kind, and motherly like always.

Peter sighs, throws a web grenade at the side of a building just for fun. It explodes, and the bottom of the web floats in the breeze. “I’m just not hungry, Karen.” He adjusts his shooters, then pulls himself up onto a rooftop. “Nothing sounds good right now, y’know? ...I’m sure this feeling will end in a few days. I promise to eat a ton, then.”

Karen doesn’t say anything.

Peter stays out a bit later than usual. He’s wandering through the city, swinging along. He’s stopped the robbery of a woman’s purse, caught a man eyeing someone’s credit card, and webbed two women to separate walls when they tried to fight each other. He keeps his eyes peeled for anything else even as his mind wanders.

When he gets home and sees May cooking dinner, he lies and says that a nice old woman bought him a bagel, then disappears to his room. Even the smell of whatever probably delicious thing she’s making is too much for him. It doesn’t help that his senses of taste and smell are heightened, making the situation so much _worse_.

 

Peter is weak by the time he goes over to Ned’s house. He hasn’t eaten much since the potatoes, only a few crackers and a bite of pizza. He’s shaking, and he feels so lightheaded, like he’ll pass out any minute now.

Ned has his older brother cook Peter something to eat as soon as he sees Peter’s pale face. He ushers him inside, has him sit down at the table where the Death Star is waiting for them. His brother gets to work immediately, making some mac n’ cheese for the three of them.

“I’m not hungry,” Peter tries.

“You still have to eat! You’re Spi-” Ned stops and glances at his brother. He leans in to Peter and whispers, “You’re _Spider-Man_. You have to be strong.”

Peter doesn’t argue. He doesn’t want Ned to be upset, or to worry, so he tries to eat the mac n’ cheese. It’s like dust, gritty and old and flavorless in his mouth. He downs each bite with water, which he can’t even really taste.

Peter starts to feel better (even though his mouth is dry and feels like he needs to clean every inch of it), and after Ned makes sure he won’t pass out or throw up or something, they work on the lego Death Star and listen to his brother’s music playing from the living room stereo.

He has the nightmare again. Only, now he’s running away from something, a big ugly monster, and Tony Stark and Sam Wilson are waiting there for him on the other side of a never-ending area. The air is filled with dust, and he can’t breathe, and he’s running but his legs are getting weak, and he falls, holds himself up with his arms, and he’s coughing and trying to breathe. When he speaks, trying to call out to Tony, only dust falls from his lips.

 

Because Peter stays the night, the next morning he’s forced to eat breakfast for the first time in five days. He can’t finish all of it, but he tries.

 

During the week, without Ned constantly there, Peter gets weak again and the nightmares continue. He eats dinner with May now, usually take out, but he only eats a fourth of what he’d usually get, and May is starting to notice. Peter lies and says that he’s eating a lot at school.

One meal a day is not enough, certainly not for him. Karen keeps warning him, telling him what vitamins he’s missing and that he needs some protein, but Peter doesn’t listen.

That Thursday is the last straw. Peter’s found something big while on patrol, bigger than the usual wallet-thiefs or yelling drivers and pedestrians in too much of a hurry. Peter finds a drug dealer, a guy selling to teenagers and adults alike. He steps in to stop it when a particularly young teenager walks up to the guy in the dark alley. Something goes wrong, though. Peter tries to stop him from getting in his car, but he misses and his web hits the car door uselessly. He then rushes and tries to get the car to stop, but he can’t lift the car up off its wheels.

 

Karen calls Tony Stark after that. Peter has tire marks on his suit, but he’s okay. There’s smudges on his face when he touches it with his dirty gloved hands.

Tony isn’t pleased to see the smudges and a visible but already fading bruise on the kid’s cheek. “Spill,” he orders.

Peter hadn’t wanted to see him, didn’t want to talk about the nightmares. Peter spills everything, though, tells Tony that everything tastes like dust, that there’s been dust in his nightmares, that he’s always trying to reach out to him in the dreams but can’t. He tells Tony how sometimes eating makes him want to vomit, how sometimes not even pop tastes like anything. He tells him that his aunt and friends are worried, that he wants to fix it but doesn’t know how. He tells him how he couldn’t stop the drug dealer.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he whispers, and he hates the wobbliness of his voice. He’s scared now, not just worried.

Tony’s silent for a moment, thinking it over. “Come over tomorrow morning. I’ll tell Aunt May for you.”

 

Peter listens. He goes to the Avengers compound, where Tony’s waiting alongside Happy and Pepper. Peter smells something from the kitchen, something familiar but not quite appealing. He gives Tony a look and starts to shake his head. “I can’t eat, Mr. Stark-”

“Just try.” Tony leads him to the kitchen where two plates wait. It’s Peter’s favorite meal, one that Ben used to make for him on his birthdays or whenever he felt ill. “I tried to get it perfect,” Tony tells him. “With the help of Pep, of course.”

Peter nearly feels like crying. He hasn’t had the meal in so long; he knew May felt bad about her cooking skills, so he had never asked her to make it, not wanting to bother her or stress her out with it. Peter looks at Tony, who holds out a fork. He looks at it, contemplating. He feels that ash in his mouth, but he decides to take the fork anyway, decides to try. He desperately needs protein, and if there’s anything he’s forced to eat, he’d want it to be this.

Tony hands him the plate and keeps the other one, and he leads him over to the couch. Pepper sits across from them in one of the armchairs, and when Peter meets her gaze she smiles kindly at him. “I texted your aunt about your favorite meal,” she says. “If it needs more salt or anything let me know.”

Peter smiles politely, and sits down on the couch. Tony sits across from him too, in the other armchair. Tony digs into the food right away, and from his expression the food seems to be delicious. Peter looks down at his plate, at the steaming food, and slowly puts some on his fork.

It surprisingly tastes okay. He tells Pepper that it’s good, which makes her smile and relax in her seat. He sees Tony watching him closely, so he eats as much of it as he can. It’s a lot, and he can’t eat all of it, but he eats a good portion of it.

With the last bite he can take, something happens. As he lifts the fork up, a tear falls, and he starts crying. He’s just as shocked as Tony and Pepper, eyes wide because he hadn’t expected it. He sets the fork down and wipes at the tears, muttering quick apologies as he tries to get himself to stop.

Pepper is swift to leave and come back with a wad of tissues. Peter thanks her as he takes them, and purposely avoids eye contact with Tony as he wipes the last of the tears away. “‘m sorry. It’s just ridiculous how great it feels to taste something. And I haven’t had this meal since he passed, so...” He stops himself there and holds the tissues in his lap, not knowing what to do with them. He rarely speaks about his uncle, had never actually talked with Tony or anyone about Ben. Ben had been his and May’s secret, had been the thing that tied them together, had meant something for just them.

Peter sees Tony setting his plate down from the corner of his eye, and he can’t help but look up at him when Tony stands up. It’s a little awkward as Tony maneuvers around the table, but he takes a seat on the couch and sets a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder. “...Look, Peter.”

Peter does, he looks over at him. That may have been the first time Tony called him by his actual name.

“I don’t know what the whole ash-deal is,” Tony continues. “But until it stops, you can come here anytime you want. We can get you some of the best cooks in America. Ramsey’s a meme thing, right?” The corner of Tony’s lip curls up.

Peter chuckles and nods.

“And if the dreams don’t quit, I can help May find someone who’ll be able to tell you what they mean.”

Peter is quick to shake his head. “No, I don’t want May to know. Please.”

“...Fine, but I’m telling her about the meal-skipping. You’re a growing kid, Pete; you can’t do that. The dreams will stay between us and a doctor, then. Believe me, kid, it helps to talk to someone about them.” Tony then looks down at Peter with such a caring expression as he thinks of what else to say. “I- I just hope you know I’m not trying to replace him, kiddo.”

Peter furrows his eyebrows as if confused, but he knows who Tony is talking about. “I know, Mr. Stark. I never thought you were.”

Tony nods, moves nervously in his seat. “Okay, good.”

Peter goes home about an hour later, with the promise of a local doctor for as long as the nightmares last. They last another three weeks, and those three weeks are a struggle for May as she tries to cook the very best meals possible. Peter insists on getting takeout or going to nearby restaurants, not wanting May to be so frantic and stressed. He visits Pepper and Tony once more after a particularly vivid nightmare, and Tony convinces him to accept a full-course meal from a famous chef Tony personally knows.

One night, the nightmares stop. Peter doesn’t exactly have a good dream the next night, but he doesn’t have a nightmare, and that’s all he can ask for. He starts to eat a lot more and actually enjoy it, starts to regain his strength, and has good dreams. One of them is weird but pleasant, a seemingly short dream of him introducing Tony to Ben. They appear to get along well.

Ned is visibly relieved that Peter is back to himself. MJ asks Peter a ton of questions, which he tries to dodge by answering vaguely. She’s even more curious when she finds out Peter had been seeing a doctor, something Ned had accidentally spilled.

Regardless, things are back to normal and Peter feels happy and motivated again. He keeps his doctor’s number just in case, but it makes its way to the bottom of his messages pretty quickly from disuse. Peter updates Tony every now and then through texting Happy, like usual, and Tony keeps his usual distance, not wanting to be in Peter's personal life too much.

Despite the bad experiences, things seem to be even better now than how they were before.

  



End file.
